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CHAPTER EIGHT
16 Flamerule, the Year of Wild Magic
Keya Nihmedu stood in the first rank of the Company of the Cold Hand, trembling in the rumble and the flash of the attack, her head tipped back as she watched sheet after sheet of crimson blast magic roll across Evereska's flickering mythal. The city's archers answered by darkening the sky with their arrows, and elf battle mages stood spaced along the Meadow Wall, barraging the demolished terraces of the Vine Vale with crackling bolts and arcs of acrid flame.
But, aside from the wall of bugbear mind-slaves behind which the phaerimm were hiding, nobody was dying. The thornbacks themselves were hovering at the edge of spell range, defended from Evereska's assaults by missile guards and spell shields, and they were even more careful to keep their ragged army of beholders and illithids scattered far up the vale where no arrows and few spells could do them harm. The elves were just as safe behind their mythal. While it stood, no attack-magic or otherwise-could cross the Meadow Wall to harm anyone inside.
For perhaps the thousandth time in the past two days, Lord Duirsar strode by in front of the Company of the Cold Hand, his wrists crossed behind his back and his gaze fixed on the distant rank of phaerimm. The events of the last months had aged him as elves do not age, turning his long hair more gray than silver and stooping his shoulders beneath the weight of his worries.
'I see what they're doing, Lord Commander,' Duirsar said to a tall moon elf-the acclaimed Kiinyon Colbathin-who was striding along at his side. 'If s going to work.'
'The mythal has held all these months, Lord Duirsar, even when it was cut off from the Weave.' Attired in the battered but once-elegant armor of an Evereskan high noble, Kiinyon looked as care-worn and stressed the high lord himself. 'It will hold until Lord Commander Ramealaerub arrives.'
Duirsar spun on Kiinyon, wagging a bony finger in his face.
'/^Ramealaerub arrives, Lord Commander-if,' he said. 'Even if he does, it may not be in time.'
Kiinyon did not argue the point At last report, Ramealaerub's army had still been camped in the Vyshaan Barrows, awaiting guides from Evereska. Unfortunately, sending guides by foot was impossible, and those who tried to teleport made it only as far as the vale's boundary before falling to ground in a bloody spray, no doubt intercepted by the same phaerimm magic that prevented inbound supplies and reinforcements from entering Evereska via its translocational gates.
Duirsar turned and studied the phaerimm.
'They are wearing us down, Lord Commander, draining our defenses.'
'They are trying, milord. That is not the same as doing.'
Kiinyon glanced back at the long line of young runners bringing casks of fresh arrows down from the city and said, 'It would take a decade to deplete Evereska's supply of arrow wood, and with the Weave available again, there is no need at all to worry about our magic.'
'You know what I am worried about, Lord Commander- and it is not arrows or lightning bolts,' Duirsar replied, glancing up at the flickering mythal. 'I think the time has come for the lion to leave his den.'
Kiinyon scowled in Keya's direction, and she realized she was nodding in agreement She stopped but held his gaze until duty compelled him to turn his attention back to Lord Duirsar.
'Milord, that's what the enemy wants,' Kiinyon said. 'They are trying to draw us out where we will be vulnerable to their attack.'
'Or exploiting our temerity to exhaust the mythal.' Duirsar continued to study the sheets of magic crashing across the surface of the mythal and said, 'In all my centuries, I have never seen it waver like this. The mythal needs our help, Kiinyon.'
The lord commander looked up, shielding his eyes against the flashing magic, and said, 'We are doing all we can. At least our archers and our battle mages are holding them at a distance. Imagine the damage the thornbacks could do, were they free to stand beside the mythal itself.'
Keya had to bite her tongue to maintain the silence expected of a soldier in the ranks. Kiinyon Colbathin was one of the greatest spellblades Evereska had ever known- almost the equal of her own father, who had fallen saving the life of Khelben Arunsun-but he was an under-confident, and therefore timid, general. It would be wrong to blame Kiinyon for Evereska's inability to break the siege, though he had certainly not hesitated to blame her brother Galaeron for prompting it, but it was no exaggeration to say that his only clear strategy seemed to be holding out until someone from outside arrived to save them.
Lord Duirsar remained silent for a long time after Kiinyon spoke. Keya thought he might actually be trying to imagine what possible difference it would make if the phaerimm were standing at the mythal
When he lowered his gaze she saw more anger in his face than uncertainty, and she knew that he was growing as frustrated with his lord commander as she and the rest of Evereska. Duirsar stared at the ground and seemed to be debating something, then raised his gaze and looked straight at her.
'What say you, Keya?' he asked.
Keya knew better than to let her astonishment show, or to hesitate for fear of offending Kiinyon. Khelben Arunsun had been her house guest for much of the siege, and during that time she had spent enough time in the company of both elves to know that Lord Duirsar expected an answer when he asked a question and that Kiinyon would only hold her reply against her if he thought she was being less than honest. Cautious though the lord commander might be in his strategy, he was faithful in his duty and loyal to his city, and if that meant being embarrassed in front of the High Lord, then so be it.
Keya took all the time she dared to consider her answer- thinking fast was no easy task with the battle thunder crashing overhead-then she inclined her head in deference.
'If Evereska's army crosses the Meadow Wall to meet the phaerimm spell to spell, it will not return,' she said. 'Milord Colbathin is correct in this much. Our losses were heavy enough when we had an army of Shadovar and two Chosen fighting at our sides. Without them, our casualties would be total.'
Though accustomed enough in matters of state to hide his feelings behind a mask of indifference, Lord Duirsar was too exhausted and nerve-racked to conceal his surprise. He studied Keya as he might a crouching wolf, his eyes narrowed and his brow raised.
But it was Kiinyon himself who demanded, 'And in how much am I mistaken, Swordlady?'
Keya dipped her head in the lord commander's direction and said, 'In fighting not to lose, milord. We cannot break the siege by conserving our forces. We must summon our resolve and fight to win.'
Seeing the look of apprehension that came to the lord commander's eyes, Keya turned back to Duirsar, whose wry smile suggested that he understood exactly what she was saying.
'Continue, Lady Nihmedu.'
Keya felt a secret thrill at being called by her hereditary title. At just over eighty, she was still a decade too young to assume the title formally, and being addressed by it by Evereska's high lord was a token of his respect.
Daring to raise her head and speak more forcefully, she said, 'For too long we have been trusting others to do what we must do for ourselves. No one can break this siege but us.'
'Then we are doomed,' Kiinyon said. 'Without help, we are no match-'
'When are you going to understand, Lord Commander?' Keya interrupted. 'There is no help.'
'Mind your tone,' Kiinyon ordered. 'Lord Duirsar asked for your opinion. He did not give you leave-'
'I have heard you calling to Khelben and the others,' Keya continued, growing ever bolder. 'Have they come? Have any of the Chosen?'
Kiinyon frowned at her insolence, but said, 'They will.'
'Before the mythal falls?' Duirsar asked. 'I have been calling to the Chosen, as well. Only Sylune answers, and just to send word that the others cannot come.'
The despair that came to Kiinyon's face almost sank Keya into despondency as well.
'Our situation is not hopeless,' she said, as much to herself as to Kiinyon. 'We have resources and have
